Murderer
by Kurarisa
Summary: Songfic to Unfaithful by Rhianna. To Serenity Wheeler, the sky is blue because of Tristan Taylor's eyes. So why can't she stop running into Kaiba's arms?


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Yeah, this is a work of complete boredom. It's a songfic to Unfaithful, which happens to be one of my favourite songs, and contains the pairing of TristanXSerenity, with hints of SerenityXKaiba. Which are both very strange pairings for me, since I can't stand Serenity. But when inspiration strikes, you write! XD

_Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, blahblahblah. If I did, there would be a lot more Bakura. And Marik. Together, ideally. _

No sound except the sweeping of a brush through chestnut hair, shallow breath. Then the clink as Serenity layed the brush down on her dressing table and took up the two ebony combs she would pin the brown locks back with. A sound in the doorway broght her gaze to the doorway to her room, and Tristan. Her... boyfriend. Still.

"You look cool tonight," he murmured, walking over and pulling the loose strands from her slender neck. She forced a smile and slid one of the combs through the hair. He sighed quietly and stepped back indiscernibly. "Where you off to tonight?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Just out with Tea and Mai, no-where special," she muttered non-commitally. Her hair fixed, she picked up her eyeliner and slid on a thin line to one of her already sparkled lids. It would just come off later, and he probably already knew. But it made everything better to just keep pretending.

"You're spending a lot of time with Tea and Mai lately," he mentioned lightly. "You gonna be late?"

"Who are you, my mother?" she snapped. Tristan sighed again and let himself fall forward so his forearms rested on his knees. She returned the heavy breath. "Sorry, Trist..."

"No problem, I guess I am a little clingy," he half-smiled. Serenity kept her gaze fixed on the mirror.

Her make-up finished, she stood up, straightening her skirt and picking up her glittery clutch purse. She kissed the top of Tristan's head lightly, grabbed a thin jacket from the back of the door and swept down the stairs of their apartment. Tristan heard the door shut and let his head hang, a heavy sigh breathing from every cell of his body. A single sob echoed through the empty flat before he picked himself up, fished his cell from his pocket and dialled Joey. He wasn't spending another night alone.

_xoxox_

Three blocks over, a long white limo was opening its door to a slim brunette girl named Serenity Wheeler, who slid into the luxurious seat next to Seto Kaiba and took the proffered champagne flute from him, pulling the door shut behund her. No-one saw. Tea Gardner was still at the Motou's, unaware of her unwitting role in the proceedings, while Mai Valentine was waving her own boyfriend out of the door. Joey Wheeler.

_xoxox_

One a.m. saw Serenity Wheeler slide the front door open as quietly as she could, thinking Tristan would be in bed as he always was when she came in. But she entered the living room to see him sitting on the edge of the tattered sofa, a bottle of Bud in one hand and the other curling and uncurling into a fist rhythmically. She muttered a quiet "hey, Trist," to him as she walked through, hanging her jacket on the back of a chair. Her hair was messed up and her makeup was smudged where she had reapplied it hastily. He stayed silent.

She hated doing this. She loved Tristan Taylor with all of her heart. He was her world. To her, the sky was blue because of Tristan Taylor. So why could't she stop running into Kaiba's arms?

Because she was stupid.

"I had Joey round earlier," Tristan croaked. As if he had spent the whole night crying. "He said Mai was still at home, no intention of leaving the house. We phoned Yugi, same story with Tea." Serenity's eyes closed slowly, forcing the glittering tear down her cheek. "Who is it, Serenity"

"Kaiba," she whispered, the word choked by tears that would not fall. She heard him choke back a sob of his own, before he rose from the sofa and crossed the room to stand behind her.

"Turn round, Ren." She span slowly to face him, eyes down. "Close your eyes and hold out your hand." Reluctantly she obeyed, fearful of a punch or a twist on her thin wrist by the hand she felt settling there. Instead she felt something cool and hard being pressed into her palm. "Open your eyes." She looked down and gasped.

She was holding a gun. More specifially, a Jericho .45. The kind her brother used to use when he was in Uchiho's gang. "I love you, Serenity," Tristan informed her, tilting her head back with one finger, his other hand tightening around her wrist. "You are everything to me. And I know, the way you used to look at me and still do, that you love me." Mutely the brunette girl nodded. "So why do you keep running off to him?"

"I don't know..." she muttered. "If I searched till the end of time I couldn't find my reason, Tristan." He sighed, still staring her down.

"Joey always carries this gun, Serenity. To remind him never to go down the path that makes him use it," he informed her, parroting facts she already knew. "I made him leave it with me before he left." His grip tightened further as he pulled her hand up go his head, till she was involuntairly pressing the barrel against his temple. "So why don't you do me a favour and pull the trigger, Serenity? Let's face it, you've been tightening it every night for the past two months. So why don't you finish the job?" His voice stayed deadly quiet all the way through, never rising louder than her own voice had been when she had first entered the room.

They stood like that for what seemed like an hour, gazes locked and tears obscuring both, till Tristan scoffed lightly and dropped her hand. The gun clattered to the floor harmlessly.

"I'm sorry, Tristan..." she whispered. He sighed.

"Me too, Serenity."

Neither was.

They would make up, say their apologies and carry on like nothing had happened. Serenity went to Seto the next day to tell him whatever they had had was over, and that night she stayed by his side all night. But with every wistful glance out of the window, she saw Tristan die a little inside. And she knew.

Even though she hadn't pulled that trigger, she was still a murderer.

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_Wow, ff-dot-net ate my Notebook formatting. Funfun. Amd yes, I am aware that Tristan's eyes are brown, not blue. But come on, bear with me. There is such a thing as artistic license, you know. _

_Comment if you love me and want me to post my Bakura fic! -end shameless plea for attention-_

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